


When Your Secret Finds It's Way Out It'll Be The Death Of You

by hummingrightalong



Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: James Bond quits the service, M/M, for love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-14
Updated: 2020-08-14
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:21:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25887244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hummingrightalong/pseuds/hummingrightalong
Summary: James has run into Safin many times over the years. They're not finished with each other.Originally posted on tumblr. Dedicated to my friends Claire and Astrid. And to my fiance.
Relationships: James Bond/Safin
Kudos: 5





	When Your Secret Finds It's Way Out It'll Be The Death Of You

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to my girlfriend, and the lovely Rami army that's desperately waiting for this film.

James really believes he’ll do it this time, sees the barrel of Safin’s gun pointing at him through the ice. If not for the thin sheet of it he’d have hit him a few times now. Either way it’s all over soon. He’s freezing. He’s a dead man. There’s a crackling sound, a feeling, and maybe a chance for an escape. But the man, his enemy is right there.  
It’s the same old story isn’t it? 

But it isn’t.

His help is gone. Not dead but distracted by Safin’s men. Just enough distance between them when a hand reaches out. He’s fished out of the depths; dragged more than helped, despite what the pride of his years of experience and training would love to claim.

“Ah, you’re alive,” the silky accent with a much rougher edge than Bond recalls it having just months or weeks ago having. “For the moment.”

“B-barely,” James coughs back. It should sound more like a man facing the nemesis he’d been after all this time. He shouldn’t be looking up into those murky eyes and feeling much warmer than the hypothermia ought to allow. “Now what?”

Safin rips the mask off his face, contorted, disfigured, and still stunning. The twinkle and confidence there never lost. The conviction in everything he’s done and will do in that sparkle, in every inch of his stance. He groans and cries out still when he whips out a brightly colored pen-like object from one of the many pockets of his tactical uniform. “Ah, yes, that’ll be better.”

“What...was that?” Safin ignores the question at first, snapping his fingers at two hired men. James notices a controller in the other’s hand and panics again for a moment until he realizes that in his weakened state he didn’t quite hear the ‘bioterrorist’ (his bosses’ term) call for an airlift. The man had always been prepared. It was one of the many things he respected about him.

Shit. He was in a state wasn’t he?

“Never mind all this for now. We need to get you out of these wet clothes. But, that was a cure of course. Quiet now, let us allow the audience to catch up.”

“You’re mad. Absolutely. And always have been.” The agent, 007, the man who has no time to die (and really, which one of them does that moniker fit more?) isn’t quite sure if he managed to state this last bit aloud. But he knows that as he drifts off, he dreams of all the missions where they couldn’t help running into one another. Where even the signature of Safin was clear and present, and helped him do the right thing. How in the end, he hated that he didn’t quite hate the man’s cause.

***

It could have been hours or days when he wakes. There’s a faint beep. When he moves a new pain makes itself known in his thigh. 

“Don’t worry, you’re practically healed now. And I missed the femoral of course. Still, I had to make it look good. You’re a rogue now. We made quite the show, just in time for the cavalry to see. So to speak. Sorry, I had to make it look good.” James manages what he hopes is a glare but he knows his expression is soft and warm. 

When his eyes are really focused, and meet those murky pools, taking in the rest of that face that’s already led him to enough ‘mistakes’ and definite crimes against Queen and Country, he notes that the physical effects of what Safin had done to himself have ebbed away. His skin is nearly smooth, his lips are soft and his hand is steady when they take a fistful of his hair. His either hand is steadier still as it works under his waistband.

“Checking my bandages?”

“You know far better than that, 007. Now, what’s an enemy of the state to do with the rest of his life?”

Taking in the sights and sounds of Safin’s private island compound, feeling a soft bed under him, the man moving closer to him, he makes a decision he can never go back on. And regrets nothing.

**Author's Note:**

> So I am not exactly up with all of Craig's movies. And I have no idea what exactly Safin is up to- so if he's absolutely wretched don't come at me about it. I had to learn this the hard way with Edward from Mr. Robot (I thought it was the mom)
> 
> Also, I'm kinda face-claiming Mika the singer for Bond. Please watch the video Boum Boum (it's French and totally filthy and he plays a secret agent in part of it) because I wrote this listening to that and "No Time To Die"


End file.
